


Looking Back

by Ambrose



Category: Romeo And Juliet - All Media Types, Romeo And Juliet - Shakespeare
Genre: Angst, Gen, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-17
Updated: 2015-10-17
Packaged: 2018-04-26 19:04:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5016580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ambrose/pseuds/Ambrose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When everything is over, and Benvolio is all alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Looking Back

**Author's Note:**

> Written for day #4 of RJ week by [promptmeshakespeare](http://promptmeshakespeare.tumblr.com/) on tumblr, a lifetime ago. And wow, everything looks so much shorter on AO3!

He’d seen Mercutio die, and could do nothing. No matter how he tried to break them apart, when he saw that look in Mercutio’s eyes that screamed despair and the need to fight to the death, to prove to himself that he was really alive. He’d dragged him into the nearest house, tried to stop the wound from bleeding – blood everywhere, all over his hands and shirt, and on Mercutio’s face when he tried to hold him one last time, to kiss him, to breathe life back into him. No matter how hard he tried, he could do nothing.

He’d seen Tybalt die, as Romeo rushed into him, and he could do nothing. Could not tell him to flee, could not stop his cousin – all too late. He caught the look of despair in Tybalt’s eyes, like all life left him when it left Mercutio. The thought that they’d be together was little comfort.

He’d seen his cousin’s bride coming out of the Friar’s house, and later he would regret that he had not stopped her, talked to her, done  _anything_ , really. He could not know, but he wished he had. He wished Romeo had trusted him – yet there was no blaming the dead; his cousin thought he was doing what was best. 

He’d tried to save Romeo. He told him to flee, then, before someone took their revenge like he had for Mercutio. He thought, for a short moment, that it had worked, that all was safe, that it would be the end of all this bloodshed – he’d called for peace so often, but he never imagined it’d be at such a cost. And even then – Romeo came back, and he could not protect him. If only he’d been the one to break the news to him, maybe he could have stayed him, have him wait, until it was safer – and then Juliet might have woken up, and then… But again, he was too late, and he could do nothing, only craddle his body and pray for a miracle he knew wouldn’t come.

He’d seen her aunt dwindle in a matter of hours, life seeping out of her like a candle burns, knowing what fate awaited her son. And he could do nothing, could not bring the reassurance that she needed. In the end he was almost glad she did not have to live through her son’s death.

He’d seen Paris’s corpse being brought out of the tomb for the funeral – there was nothing left to be done. He barely knew the man, only that he’d done no wrong. He remembered how Mercutio always made fun of him, yet clearly was fond of his cousin’s quirky personality. He thought of what Mercutio would say –  _you could not live without me, little cousin?_

But the thought that they’d be all together brought little comfort. He was not sure he could live without them. And yet, he had to try, to stay alive and remember them, even when the others would put it all behind them and forget. He had to make sure they did not start fighting again, that all that blood had not been shed for naught. If he managed that, managed to keep the peace, then he might be able to live with himself again, and not feel so powerless - so guilty, even if he knew, deep down, that it wasn’t his fault. Because he couldn’t shake off the thought that he watched them all die, and did nothing.


End file.
